douze
by captain of the seven seas
Summary: for the twelve months in a year in which every month tells a story of the tumultuous life and times of jal fazer. /jal&tony/


a/n: originally for a prompt in the harry potter fandom, but i just fell in love with the idea of using it in the skins fandom. to understand it better, check it out: topic/44309/80155773/1/The-Months-of-the-Year-Challenge after you read. thank you :)

disclaimer: i do not own anything.

* * *

_january;_

october fifth, 1993, jal fazer is born. her skin is dark as cocoa, glowing as the doctors hold her up to the lamp. her mother smiles, tears in her eyes before they close.

they never open again.

* * *

_february;_

confetti fall around her, and she sticks out her tongue to catch one. her dad looks at her for the first time a talented girl, not a girl whose life put an end to her mother's. it's nice but it doesn't last.

nothing ever does, really.

* * *

_march; _

it's a war. her heart is tugged all over, like tiny hands are clutching to it and grabbing it at every direction possible. on one hand, it's chris, darling chris who loved her and made her feel more than she ever thought she could feel and gave her a child. on the other hand it's a child, someone that needs protection and love and care. it's a war, and like every war it's long and deadly and affects everyone involved.

it's a war and it's killing her on the inside.

* * *

_april; _

_so you like my new balm? _- she asks, as they sit on the swings.

_that's new? - _he gives her a surprised look, but the smirk on his face says he noticed.

_yes. - _she rolls her eyes.

_depends. - _he shrugs and gives her a tiny smile.

_on what? - _she turns around confused. he comes closer until he is a mere breath away.

a pause and then - _what it tastes like. _

_you pervert. - _she says, but she closes the gap anyway.

and, for the last fucking time, it's not love. no, because jal loves chris and only chris and even if he's dead and decomposing and gone forever, she loves him still. no, jal doesn't love tony. because tony loves michelle and only her despite what that scene might indicate.

no, absolutely not.

* * *

_may; _

her picture is stored underneath the bed. her hands grasp the sharp, black frame, eyes scanning the woman in the picture. she lags around the house, trying to ask who this woman is. she asks her mother, who grabs it with angry eyes and promptly flings it to the trashbin.

she unearths it later and hands it to her father who begins a tale of a woman so strong and brave, he loved her for it. her name is written in cursive on the bottom of the picture. they read it together.

_jal fazer, _it reads.

* * *

_june; _

_is this goodbye? - _there's not a single tear in her eyes, but her voice shake with sadness.

_might as well be. I'm getting married, aren't I? _- he jokes, but it's as hollow as his heart. they weren't supposed to end up like this. not like this.

_I wish you weren't. _- the truth is out sooner than she liked. a pause before he hugs her. and just like that, the dry beds turn into overflowing lakes as tear after tear slide down her cheeks.

_me too. _

the wedding was nice. the food was nice. people were nice. what michelle wore was nice. it was nice, but never perfect. because the bride wasn't her.

as fucking simple as that.

* * *

_july;_

_tony stonem, you __are _the _most narcissist person I know!_

_do you even know what the word means?_

_of course I do. it means to be in love with ones' self._

_then you're stupid. I'm not a narcissist._

_and why the bloody hell not?_

_because if I was in love with myself, how the hell could I be in love with you__?_

oh.

* * *

_august;_

maid of honor.

every syllable is a punch to the gut, a reminder of what a hypocrite she- _no, _they both are. she slept with the groom-to-be and the bride, who is her best friend, mind, is making _her _the maid of honor. jal wants to paint over the word honor.

there is no more shred of honor left in her. it left the day she kissed tony at the swingsets, and she was certain it might never return.

* * *

_september; _

_you know, I hate Harry Potter. - _she says out of nowhere, lying across a patch of grass.

_why? - _he's not too fond of reading, but he likes the books alright. he's more startled to hear jal doesn't like a particular book.

_he never ended up with the right girl. - _she says and smacks the ground angrily. he presumes she's talking about hermione. the girl ended up with ron, not harry, which is weird considering.

_no one does, Jal. - _he says and then and there the truth is painful to hear. two cities away michelle is finishing college and she'll come back soon enough. this sort of fairytale bubble they've been living in since the swingset incident will burst soon enough.

_not even you? - _the question is a whisper, her lips close to his ears. he doesn't answer and turns to his side and kisses her.

_no, not even me. _- he adds as an afterthought.

* * *

_october; _

_we have now arrived in Los Angeles. _

jal stands up straight, careful not to wake the tired-looking woman she was seated next to. as people shuffled across the plane to get their bags, wake their relatives and make their way out, jal reached behind her pocket, waking her phone from its shutdown. beside the message icon pops thirty-four messages, most coming from one man.

she deletes them all, not caring if they worried about her. after all, it's time to let go and move on, no matter how hard it may seem.

* * *

_november; _

tony was nine when he met the girl who would ultimately break his heart. he was never attracted to her in the first place. no, it would be eleven more years till he'd fall for her. if he knew then, he might have known better than to pour chocolate in her clarinet. so when little miss fazer climbed up the stage and blew the horn, spectators gasped as the instrument spewed out chocolate syrup down the stage and the front of her white dress.

he felt guilty afterwards, and tried to approach her. jal seemed innocent but the moment they shook hands, she poured a bottle of the stickiest strawberry syrup down his pants.

_even steven? - _she giggles.

_even steven. - _he agrees.

they've been friends ever since.

* * *

_december;_

december fourteenth, 2015, melody fazer is born. her skin a smooth creamy complexion like her father's, whose brown eyes tear at the sight. her mother reaches over and squeezes his hand, her voice a whisper.

_i love you._

she says as her eyes take in the sight of the girl she'll never see grow up and the man she loved and loved her back but was never really hers and faces of their friends flash by, cassie and maxxie and sid and anwar and michelle and chris, darling chris and tony, dear tony, who she kissed that day in the swing sets. as the last image passes by, she closes her tired eyes.

they never open again.


End file.
